Things Left Behind
by EllieF
Summary: That adolescent impatience he once felt, that certainty his real life hadn't started yet, and that when it did, it would be dramatic and thrilling and twenty times more interesting than Near's... it makes him chuckle bitterly now.


Another one from dn_contest, this time for the "everyday life" prompt. Thanks, as usual, to Vashti for her pre-post sanity check!

**Things Left Behind**

Mello drifts in and out, untethered from the present. The months run together in his memory, a palimpsest written and rewritten over years. The dusty smell in the library, the pattern of sun on their legs when he'd coax Matt into climbing the tallest tree, all the things he barely noticed because he thought he'd have them forever. Near would always be there to hate, to be the goad of _not good enough yet_ that drove Mello. Linda would always be around to be teased, and Matt to follow so unswervingly that Mello hardly ever looked behind him to make sure he was still there.

He took it for granted, as all kids do, he thinks, that the way things were was the way they would always be. It's only now, lying in the darkness of an apartment the Mafia goons never knew about, looking back in a haze of pain and delirium—nothing to be done for it but endure it; he can't risk unconsciousness—that he gives in to a moment of weakness and wishes none of them had ever had to learn differently.

"You're hanging on by your fucking fingernails," Mello told Matt as they walked to their first class. "You'd better crack the hell down, or you'll get demoted to the class _Royce_ is in."

Subjects were taught by ability, not age, but Matt was unmoved by this dire prediction. He laughed. "So what?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "So I'd be stuck in there with goddamn Near and no one to make fun of him with me, is what."

"Yeah, there is that."

"How many times have we had this conversation?"

"Every other week for three years?"

"You're hopeless," Mello said, giving Matt a friendly shove. If it hadn't been friendly, he would've pushed him toward the wall.

After their morning classes, they went to the computer lab, where their attempts at stealth, Mello thinks now, probably only made them more conspicuous.

It had been more than ten months since L went to Japan, and all that time, Mello had been able to guess what he was doing only from the media's reports on Kira, which were full of holes at best and blatantly biased at worst. If Matt could crack the NPA's system, they'd get the real story.

They'd tried every day, for long enough by now that it was routine, and neither of them expected Matt to get in today. He didn't.

"Sorry, man," Matt said. "It's gotta be L's doing, how tight they've got it locked up."

"That's a good sign," Mello said, even though all it really meant was that L had helped them beef up their security at _some_ point. Matt must have known that too, but he didn't bring it up.

They went to lunch, where Matt at once moved half of Mello's chips to his own plate and stole most of the rest once he'd eaten those. Mello grinned and slapped his hand away every few tries, and didn't really mind at all.

"Are you going to come outside today, for once?"

"I dunno, M. You dragged me out, like, last week."

"All you did was sit under a tree!"

Getting Matt out into the yard was a victory of itself, back then, and now Mello's the one who can't go out. He doesn't even like to push the tattered curtains aside long enough to squint down at the street. That adolescent impatience he once felt, that certainty his real life hadn't started yet, and that when it did, it would be dramatic and thrilling and twenty times more interesting than Near's... it makes him chuckle bitterly now. _Careful what you wish for._

"Humans need sleep," Matt said, not bothering to whisper, since they were the only ones in the library. "It's an observed fact."

"One more hour," Mello said. Lights-out was mostly theoretical, and never applied to the library anyway.

"How many times have we had _this_ conversation?"

Mello quickly multiplied it out in his head. "A thousand and ninety-five. Or so."

Matt shook his head, amused. "Someday I'm gonna move the sign from your door to here. And drag your blankets in too. You'll never have to leave."

"Yeah, why don't you get on that?" He waited until the last possible second to laugh to show Matt it was a joke.

"And you call _me_ hopeless."

He tells himself he doesn't know why Matt should be on his mind now, but it's a lie. He tells himself, "Selfish," but while that's perfectly true, he knows it won't keep him from doing whatever he has to do to win.

"What do you think'll happen, after L beats Kira?" Matt asked. He'd finally gotten Mello to leave the library the way he always did, by hanging about until Mello got tired of trying to study _and_ entertain him. They were sitting on the steps outside the dining hall's deliveries door in flagrant violation of curfew. Matt flicked ashes away and passed the cigarette over to Mello.

"Maybe he'll come visit." Saying _maybe_ annoyed Mello, when he was so sure of it that every time he heard a car pulling into the drive, he looked to see if it was the posh black one from last time, but he hadn't even told Matt about meeting L.

"Do you really think..." Matt trailed off and looked away. It was the closest he'd come to naming the unnamable, the fear that had been slowly growing for months, which felt to Mello like a weight that sat in his stomach and got a little heavier every day.

"I _really think_ he'll be fine."

"_We'll_ be fine," Mello says now, turning in the narrow bed, trying to find a cool spot on the pillow. He kept Matt out of it for as long as he could, left him behind with the ordinary days that now chase each other round in Mello's mind, taunting him with their lost simplicity. If anyone could still believe there's a normal to go back to, it's Matt, and maybe Mello will have to be the one to teach him differently. He knows Matt will forgive him.


End file.
